


Fifty Shades of Le Chiffre

by vigilantedusk



Category: Casino Royale (2006), James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - Ian Fleming
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vigilantedusk/pseuds/vigilantedusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen version) taking out some frustration on the reader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Shades of Le Chiffre

I'm sitting behind a large, red oak desk; browsing through emails and stocks from my laptop. I have multiple emails from Mr. White, Quantum, and a few memos and deadlines from my current clients. I've been put on surveillance after Casino Royale; they fucked me up for fucking them over, and in front of a bound up Mr. Bond. They don't trust me like they used to. I've got a lot on my mind, and days like this, I wish I could go to any casino or just play one small round of poker. I sip from my coffee, careful not to spill even a drop on my suit. My suit is black; it reminds me of the night. My hair is black. Tall, dark and handsome is what you see at first glance; but get a little close, dare to get near me. I'm blind in my left eye, with a small scar from top to bottom. You want to reach out and touch it, caress it, ask what happened. Sluts like you, don't deserve to know.

You dare to enter my private study without knocking first; your hips swaying with each step, your lips pursed, your breasts bouncing lightly, and your long hair dancing. I'm obviously in a bad mood, but that doesn't stop you from handing me a very important file. I'm scowling. Removing myself from my seat, I walk around to face you. Even in your designer heels, I'm taller than you. You try to avert my cold gaze, but gently, I tilt up your chin and lean in for a passionate kiss, and firmly grasp your hips, making you sit on my desk. Your breathing picks up, and I cannot help but pull back to grin like a wolf; which is exactly how I'd eat your moist, tight little cunt. You'd like that, wouldn't you, slut? Of course you would. All sluts like that.

I take a few steps back to gaze at you, still grinning. You're puzzled, scared even for what I'm going to do next. I could cut you; I like knife play. See, I'm a little fucked up. Bondage. Knife Play. I want to leave a permanent mark, or even a memory. One or the other, or both. I know it hurts, but I like to see the expression on your face when I hurt you. I think it's cute, but you'll never know that. I keep all my sexual fantasies and desires hidden; you've seen my poker face, it's pretty impassable. I bet you're wet; just waiting to see what I have planned next.

My hands glide up your thighs, and your hands are placed firmly on my desk. Squeezing your soft flesh, I kneel down on one knee , lifting your skirt up higher. Nice panties, all lacy and pink. Victoria's Secret, maybe? 

I can smell your arousal. I haven't done anything, and you quiver in my grasp. My eyes gleam dangerously, and in that moment, I've pulled down your panties; your cunt is glistening with your juices, and your little clit is all perked proudly for me. Such a good slut. I, too, am aroused, but you don't notice.

"Play with yourself, and tell me everything that goes through your mind." My tone is firm, demanding; and you happily obey.

I like the way you circle your clit with your thumb, then slowly slip your middle finger inside your warm depths. You tell me that you're imagining me; my thick cock thrusting savagely into you. You also admit that you do this often, to more thoughts of me. You little slut. I cannot help but smirk slightly. I sit back in a leather arm chair, watching. I'm actually a little bored, and you can tell, so you try to work harder. God so help you if you come...

Sighing internally, I've gotten up, shoving your cheek flat against my desk. I don't care if you're uncomfortable in this position. Thwap. Thwack. SMACK. You ass is proudly in the air, and now red after three blows. I've made a note to keep a paddle in my desk for the next slut to grace my study. Your pleas and cries don't move me, but seeing you this way has finally made my cock twinge and become erect. I'd grind against you, but I don't want the front of my pants to be damp with the arousal of a slut.

Kneading the nice flesh of your ass, I pinch and spank you some more; your screams turning to cries. At this point, I would've gone around to throat fuck you; make you gag on my manhood; but I have work to finish, and this is just, as they say, a "quickie." I undo my belt and pull off my trousers in my own time. I can hold myself. You speak, telling me you're on the pill. as excellent as this is, I didn't ask you to speak, so I lean over to smack you, and tell you to shut up. 

Without warning, I've roughly thrusted my erect member into your juicy cunt. I wish you'd bite your tongue, but I'll allow your moans this time. Gripping your hair, I continue thrusting as waves of pleasure wash over us. At the pace I'm going, it doesn't take long for me to spurt my creamy seed into you. While you're wallowing around in your own orgasm, I've pulled up my pants. This was for my pleasure, not yours.

I tell you to clean your self up and get out, which you do. As you walk to the door, I stop you for one moment. "Next time, don't wear any panties." You nod, and reply with "Yes, sir." When I'm all alone in my office, I pick up a pen and sign a few documents; you're in my mind, and in my solitude, I smile, pleased with my actions.


End file.
